The Tyrants
by Koch'sglory
Summary: The grand lords of the void gather to discuss their options...be they to rend and enslave, destroy and conquer.


The Tyrants

_Thank you very much for reading! Bear in mind, this is just a small part of a rather large book I am writing, "The Chronicles of Koch, The Dark Castle." Here, for your viewing pleasure, is one of the most well liked chapters… also as a note to the reader, my book is rather old: so old, in fact, that the writing in the first 1-10 chapters is not very satisfactory. I am on a crusade to fix it and bring it up to standard shortly, but until then, I suggest bearing through the awkward parts._

_Once again, thank you for your support!_

_Now, the story turns from the exploits of courageous Lleu, and centers on the darkness to come. The meeting of the powerful has begun…_

Swirling dark vapors coalesced around the room, the eerie fog creeping through the stone cracks, and permeating the area. Silence was tangible, drifting heavily in the air, breathing deep into the structure. The stillness of the room became complete as the vapors suddenly froze, once drifting soundlessly about the crypt. The cold in the stone intensified, freezing the air, chilling the area. Then, slowly, the dark vapors moved again, and began to disappear and thin. The room came into definition: circular, large, with a morbid chandelier hanging gloomy above, only half of its tallow candles lit. The heat of the area rose, battling against the frigid temperatures. Then, the mist was gone entirely, and in a room where once was nothing, there were now three figures.

One of the figures stood tall, his arms crossed firmly across his chest, and standing completely upright. He was garbed in black clothes, and midnight armor, which seemed to swirl in the wan light. A long sharp notched blade hanged limply from his side, menace embracing it. He wore a darkened cloak which fell heavily down to the floor, and was like an impenetrable shadow. His hair was slicked back, and was dark, just like his stance, demeanor, and apparel. His skin was pale, but completely covered except for his face, which stared off oddly, emotionlessly. His gloves were black, and studded with gleaming metal spikes, and his boots the same. He looked around the room, his head swinging slowly, gracefully, but with an eerie chill. He spoke to the others. "I suppose you two understand why we are meeting like this?" His voice was strong, and contained a dark malice. It etched itself into the calm of the room, and swirled small wisps of vapor. The voice had such power; it seemed as if to be an entity unto itself.

"There is much to be said," returned another. He was completely clad in a type of bulky green armor that was lined with bright steel. His right hand was extremely large in the armor, and was not so much of a hand as a cone, with the large base away from him. Four holes opened up in the base, all lined with different colors. The left hand, which was clad heavily in armor, was silver, and shone metallically. His body appeared much larger than it was because of the green protection, enlarging his hands and chest. His feet also were large, with strange vents and gauges. A cap covered the back of his head, but his face was revealed, and his features were pleasing. "Of course, the speaking is not mine to be had, and I believe it would be a horrible mistake for me to articulate without the alliance of a more laconic speaker." His voice was slightly joyful, and attempted a more comedic attitude. He smiled, turning to the last figure.

The last one was hunched, and draped heavily in a shady cloth. Gold etchings adorned the ends, and the occasional swishes of the material gave sight to more gold calligraphy. An odd mask was on the figures face, in the likeness of a jackal, or frenzied wolf. Red vapors poured through the grated mouthpiece, like a bloodied mist. The figure spoke, his monotone voice strong and steady. "Indeed. An important issue has come to the fray, and as our positions decree, we must deal with it." The cloaked figure straightened, rising slowly, pulling a long dark staff from his cloak. The staff came to light, and golden runes began to skitter around the base, making flight to the top, where a purple orb sat heavily in a case of silver. "It may not be very accurate, but we have new info about the horrible loss of the Blood Gem. Supposedly, some human wretch moved through the pass, and stole our precious stone. This is a failure of both those pitiful goblins, who eat away our gifts voraciously, and Lakshorn. How could not he know some of this threat? We will have to consult him on the matter. His insolence has gone far enough."

The man in green armor nodded, and spoke. "I agree wholeheartedly with thee, ally, but simple question and torture may not bring success. Lakshorn may be fool enough not to have witnessed the theft."

The tall man smiled, and spoke. "Oh, I beg to differ on your earlier point. I find torture as an amazing and wonderful tool, capable of revealing the key to our troubles. Torture yields not with effort but with attempt. Anyways, it is much more enjoyable to hear tortured screams than pleading whispers." The dark mist seeped into the room again, bubbling across the floor like an acid, weakly throwing up strings of vapor.

The man in green smiled, and retorted. "Grave Render, you never can see beyond your own twisted views. Your mind is more closed and locked than the armor on my chest."

The tall man, Grave Render, smiled villainously, not speaking. The dark figure shifted uncomfortably, cocking the mask curiously. "Green Arms, time runs as we babble here seemingly endlessly. I hath more facts to relate on."

The man in green, Green Arms, smiled, and bowed to the figure, his arms sweeping back. "Of course, Velneth, you did call this meeting to being."

Velneth nodded, and raised his gleaming staff. "The goblins of the southern mountain…they have been destroyed. Their charred bones still litter the tunnels, so our last scout spoke. A rival force of orcs discovered them, and pounced on their opportunity. We had no time to stop the fool with the Blood Gem…what a curse upon us!"

Grave Render nodded, and unsheathed his cruel blade. "I inquire: why do not we give Lakshorn a trial? He can pass through another Blood Gate and with his superior skills, find this little thief and end him! We will be rid of a threat, and retrieve the Blood Gem effortlessly!"

"Perhaps," nodded Green Arms, sighing. "The fool thief may be protected, however, and announcing a demon such as Lakshorn may be a false move. It will be attention to us, and bring all those cowards and fools under one banner, potentially giving us a harder time of it. Conquering a world is not a laughing matter."

"Ha! It is against our might and our glorious armies!" Grave Render smiled, swishing his blade through the air in a mock parry.

"Grave Render understands our situation." Velneth spoke, coming out of a prior trance. "The introduction of Lakshorn may be a mistake, however. We know not just how they will react, if Lakshorn is seen. I believe that we continue the use of our goblin puppets. We have time, however tortuous it may seem."

Green Arms smiled, crossing his strange ligaments. "Those goblins follow thee, Velneth. But even puppets can not hold a good show for long. The masters must interfere at some time. And anyways, I do thirst for a worthy battle."

"And I thirst for opportunity." Grave Render returned, his grudge lifting. "Let us agree upon this; we will inform our pawns to find the thief whilst continuing our…original search. In six months, if no sign of either gem is found," Grave Render threw back his head, breaking out in laughter. "The hunt begins."

Green Arms nodded, his face grim. "Yes, yes I believe we can submit to an agreement of the sort. It seems to give an opportunity not to release Lakshorn and announce our position."

"Wait, I have one more note of significance to make." Velneth spoke, his mask oriented on the purple opal of his staff. "Any who travel through the doorway are changed – they take on a small part of the magic of the path. That is in part why only a select few can move through the Blood Gate a year, so the magic is not worn out. A magical mark has been place upon our little thief; one that I am proud to say is quite traceable. Let me perform the ritual, and expose this little fool!" Velneth swept his staff, and in its wake a large map appeared, giving accurate details of the land. Then, with a low muttering, Velneth ran his hand across its details, finally stopping on Cormalon.

"Cormalon, I see?" Grave Render spoke, staring at the tiny city on the grand map, its contours near the great sea of Gilac. "Let us hope he has not found comfort with the king, that is, if he is so great. I rather doubt he is nothing more than a simple thief."

"Agreed." Green Arms spoke, holding an embroidered cloth and rubbing his metallic arm. "I find this whole deal rather distressing, yet also a new adventure." He smiled, revealing his glinting teeth. "Not much has happened in these last few years. Anyways, how would we expect for one so small, a thief, to steal our Blood Gem? Both Gems are needed to power the gates between this dimension and the other, one on each side of the gate, of course… Lakshorn was tasked to guard his… his utter failure speaks loud in the face of his power. But, as I was saying, this is a grand new chance to explore our strengths."

Velneth shook his head, muttering. "I would rather have no adventure at all. Better a dull existence than an exciting albeit dangerous one. But that is not mine to decide, and I believe we have agreed upon our action."

"Ally Velneth," Grave Render spoke, glancing down into the dark vapors. "We _must _succeed. The Blood Gem must be retrieved to renew our forthcoming assault. The island of Alanoria will fall before our strength and that of…our highest master."

Just then, a flash of light illuminated a wall, and the stone began to swirl, turning a bloody tint. The material spinned and twirled, finally becoming more liquid than stone. Out of the swirling rock stepped a creature. It was Lakshorn.

Lakshorn stretched his immense tail, and flexed his muscular scaled arms. He unsheathed a black blade from the numerous weapons dangling on his belt, which, aside from a navy blue cloak, was the only thing he wore. His tails end was capped with a large spike, which swished threateningly as his tail moved about. A tongue flickered from his toothed mouth, and he walked towards the small group, twirling his blade effortlessly. "Zo, you have meet 'ere for a zecret meeting, zecret from Lakzhorn? I t'ink it would be bezt if you inform me about thiz meeting you are having."

"Discussion concluded, Lakshorn." Grave Render crossed his arms, and turned to the armed reptile. "I am sorry we could not meet in your presence, but we thought you had guard duty."

"Not anymore you liar! I have no duty, az no duty to be done! Your inzolece aztoundz me. Now, you can tell Lakzhorn what thiz meeting waz about, or you can zample my ange'!"

Velneth looked to Lakshorn, his breathing hoarse. "No need to get upset, ally. We were simply talking about the foul thief who dared test our power. The one that stole the gem under _your _guard."

Lakshorn grimaced as best as it could, and retorted. "Perhapz if ztronger magic prezented itzelf to Lak, then I ztop intruder. But no magic given, zo no zafe protection azzured."

"Hmm," Grave Render looked down at Lakshorn, his nose tilted. "Let us hope you do not take this mortification to hand, Lakshorn. It would be a shame to see you change your servitude." Grave Render glanced down at his blade, the dark metal shinning villainously.

Lakshorn looked nervous, glancing around quickly. "I will right thiz wrong if you let me take thiz quest. I zhall hunt the thief down!"

"Well, that been nicely taken care of." Green Arms nodded to the others, and spoke again. "If we have not retrieved the Gem after six months, we shall retrieve it from this offender."

Lakshorn's eyes glinted, his tongue flickering. "A hunt! Already I thirzt for it! I zhall come upon that fool, and end hiz flickering flame myzelf!"

"Wonderful." Velneth raised his staff, glancing around the dark room. "I would say our business here is complete-"

"Unless I say otherwise!" In the room now was a man in billowing clothes. His garments were blood red and deep blue, with amazing gems sown into the silky material. His hair was a shade of deep red as well, and was long, running down his face and shoulders. He had a large thick cloak, which was slightly purple with the blue and red around him, and emitted a shadowy aura in the corner of an eye. He held a long black staff, with a red gem set heavily in the pommel. Two elaborate sheaths hung from his gold belt, calligraphy adorning them. His face was handsome, and body strong, but not thick or heavy. Indeed, he was very slim, and wore a peaked blue hat set to a crazed angle on his head. "Another meeting and I not invited!?" His voice was unnaturally harsh and sharp, and carried a near potent malice.

"Mahishian," Velneth sighed, shaking his mask. "You always do have a knack to appear at the worst of times; we have concluded our meeting."

Mahishian scowled, and pounded the butt of his staff to the floor, breaking chips out of the stone. "You have no authority to end a meeting on me! I wasn't even properly told of your little joining."

Grave Render gave Mahishian a glazed look, his face emotionless. "Get your own meeting together, then. We have concluded ours. I'm sure that Lakshorn-" Lakshorn gave a quick dark glance at Grave Render –"would like to speak with you."

"Always with your blank statements and horrid options, Grave!"

Mahishian pounded the floor again, his cape flying back in the burst of power emanating from his weapon. Now the floor cracked completely, tiny flames licking up around the cracks. "Shut your mouth Green Arms! I know you were about to give a perk retort."

Green Arms, mouth open in preparation to give said retort, shut it quickly. Velneth picked up the conversation. "What is done is done, so let us forget of the past and go back to our primary duties."

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you, Velneth!" Mahishian sneered and crossed his arms, his dark staff leaning against him. "It would be nice to forget your failures, your weakness, your pain. It won't happen, though. Much pain is in store for you."

Lakshorn flicked his tongue out, tasting the building contempt in the room. "I t'ink we zhall part our wayz."

"I concur," Green Arms consented coldly, turning to Lakshorn. "I have had enough of this frivolous conversation anyway." His mouth was on the verge of a sneer.

Mahishian smiled wickedly, and spoke. "Why, of course, trusted allies. _Leave_, and let be the anger and malice. I'm _sure_ it will not destroy you in the long run!" His words absolutely dripped with sarcasm.

"Destruction heeds not us, Mahishian, but you." Grave Render's solid gaze was trained upon Mahishian, his roaring voice malicious. "Your anger towards your prospective allies separates us all, and that is not a particularly good stratagem. I would encourage your leaving."

Mahishian threw his staff down, the wood clattering on the now charred and cracked floor. Twin blades flew from their sheaths, twirling expertly in Mahishian's gloved hands, arcs of sound and light. "Make that statement three paces away, Grave, I do dare thee! Let us see if your cryptic advice is effective whilst bleeding upon my steel!"

Grave Render shook his head, sighing. "Threats and violence, Mahishian? I am ashamed of your demeanor. To think, we still trust you as an ally, misguided though our hope is." His eyes flashed dangerously

Velneth nodded, and spoke. "Such things do raise several questions, and not nearly as many answers."

"You know…I seem to remember several threats from Mahishian over time." Green Arms glanced around the group. "I find them fairly easy to record, as their bloody violence inducing imagery is quite memorable." Grave Render tapped the side of his head, smiling.

Mahishian turned to Green Arms, grimly sneering. "You know, that is probably the most rewarding thing you have ever said to me."

"I try my best."

"I'm quite sure you do. I will make sure to throw an extremely venomous threat at you as soon as possible, so as to stimulate your nerves."

"Joy."

"Az much az thiz converzation iz interezting, I muzt depart." Lakshorn glanced at the weapons at his sides nervously, inspecting them, and then turned back to the assembled group.

"Best of luck to you, ally." Green Arms bowed, and then turned away.

"Perseverance and determination lead to success." Velneth raised his staff, the dark orb glinting.

"Oh, _do_ depart. I have bursting anticipation for my clash with Grave." Mahishian twirled his blades, arcs of blood red and dark blue forming in the air lazily.

Grave Render turned to Lakshorn quickly, giving him a nod. The demon left the way he came as the wall behind him melted red. Green Arms looked around, inspected his arm, sighed, looked around again, glanced upwards, sighed once more, then spoke.

"Um, I think I have some…important business to attend to. Erm, hope all this turns out well." Green Arms sidled to the edge of the stone room, glanced around again, and quickly exited. The room was silent.Velneth broke it. "Mahishian, I know you are eager to rend and kill; why not indulge yourself with the orcs? Throw in a demon or two. They are much more rewarding than Grave Render, I do suppose."

"I concur." Grave Render stared down at Mahishian. "I thought that killing was your past time, or something of the like." He smiled a chilly smile.

Mahishian eyes glinted. "Fine, coward. I will release my anger upon those pathetic creatures. But! Our deal is not done!" Mahishian burst into flame, the hungry licks searching for fuel, then disappeared, the sudden burst of orange light dieing, leaving the room dark again.

'Well that is that." Velneth spoke, glancing at Grave Render.

"Our Master…is it right to hide these things from him?" Grave Render stirred uncomfortably, his loyalty undying.

Velneth nodded, whispering. "Worry not; he knows. My ally, we are the tyrants; he is our master, great in all things. He sees and hears all in this demesnes, and beyond. He is…the Dark One."

Grave Render nodded, relieved. "That is good…good indeed. We are the tyrants…let us see if our enemy fears us on that fateful day soon to come!" Grave Render broke our in laughter, swinging his blade, its deadly edge singing in the air. "Let us see if they can stand against the tyrants!"


End file.
